


Take It From the End

by JustAPassingGlance



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Divorce, Famous Blaine, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-19 18:46:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3620367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAPassingGlance/pseuds/JustAPassingGlance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone had told Blaine that his divorce would end up being complicated and messy, no matter how much he hoped to keep it amicable. That was the way of celebrity divorces.  But his ex interning for his lawyer was a complication that not even Hollywood could have foreseen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take It From the End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anisstaranise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anisstaranise/gifts).



> you are welcome everyone for completely cutting out the very complicated boring legal bits. even though i spent a day researching statutes and case law.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Also, in my entirely biased opinion, everything is more entertaining if you have the knowledge that Blaine took his husband's last name. Poor, misguided soul.~~

Despite the fact the room was meant to appear inviting, everything about it felt imposing. Sunlight glared in from the floor to ceiling windows and reflected off the sheen of the highly polished mahogany table. The lights, which were unnecessary given the sunlight, burned down on anyone sitting under them. Even the chairs were deceiving; they looked like they should have been plush and luxurious, but in reality were more uncomfortable than anything Blaine had ever sat on.

And the clock. That innocuous looking clock that hung in the corner of the room and ticked away the seconds loud enough to be announcing the progression of time to everyone in the city.

With every second the clock ticked forward the tension that had been festering for months between Blaine and his soon-to-be ex-husband grew. James drummed his fingers against the table as Blaine squirmed in his chair. James’ lawyer sighed, capping and uncapping her pen is rapid succession.

 Blaine knew he should have listened to Mr. Browne when he said this was a process best handled separately. But, as always, his optimism had clouded his judgment.

"Unacceptable," James muttered for at least the eighth time.

"He's only a few minutes late." It hadn’t even been five minutes since Brittany, the very nice if not somewhat scatter-brained secretary, had lead them from the waiting room to the office, chattering about the kittens she just adopted and wondering, somewhat inexplicably, if either of them would turn to piracy.

"I've been waiting for almost 25."

Blaine felt his patience start to fray. It had been almost impossible to make the appointment to begin with. Trying to match up everyone’s schedules had caused more than one headache. Mr. Browne seemed to always be in court, a good sign, Blaine felt, in a lawyer and the moment they had decide on divorce, James had developed an allergy to New York. Not to mention the new mini-series that Blaine had just started shooting as he waited to be called back to Los Angeles for post-production on his latest film.

 "That's what happens when you insist on being early to everything," he said. He could feel a muscle in his jaw twitch. It was a tick he had developed within the last few months as he bit back more and more words that would only lead to yet another fight. 

"It's a thing called professionalism, Blaine."

Blaine sighed. It was an argument that he knew better than to continue trying to have.

The clock on the wall kept ticking. _Tick. Tick. Tick. TICK._ Louder and louder, amplified by the tense silence.

"So sorry to keep you gentlemen waiting." Mr. Browne bustled through the door. "Judges have their own concept of time."

"Not a problem at all," James said, all traces of irritation sliding from his face as he stood up. "You must be Mr. Browne. I'm so glad you could meet with us today." He reached out to shake the lawyer's hand.

"Not at all, not at all," he replied jovially. "And you must be Mr. Boyle. And Blaine, of course, good to see you again. And Leanne," He greeted Blaine and James’ lawyer with a nod before gesturing back to their chairs, "Please, have a seat."

“Please, call me James.”

"Yes, of course. I hope you don't mind," he continued, focusing his attention on James, “but Blaine's agreed to let one of our interns sit in on our meetings. Of course confidentiality is our top concern, but we find it very helpful to let them observe the proceedings both inside and out of the courtroom. And this one is one of the best and brightest that we've had in years."

"Yes, he told me" James said shortly, his voice cold enough to have Blaine flinching away from the memory of the fight that had followed that announcement.

Blaine had been hesitant at first, too. Getting divorced was bad enough, especially with the press already prying into every aspect of his life, the last thing he wanted was someone else involved. But Mr. Browne had explained how important it was for their interns to experience the full range of what the firm did and Blaine could hardly deny a student an educational opportunity because it made him a little uncomfortable.

"And you have no objections?" This time Mr. Browne looked to James’ lawyer.

"At this time we have no complaints,” she replied evenly, throwing a sharp glare at James who immediately snapped his mouth closed.

"Excellent. He should be here momentarily then. But in the meantime... I take it you had time to go over the documents? Before we get into looking at some of the more specific terms, any questions there?"  
  
“Actually,” Blaine started to say but was interrupted by the door swinging open again.

“Sorry I’m late,” the intern apologized, juggling two cups of coffee, a notepad, and a stack of files in his hands. “I-”

“No fucking way.” James was on his feet, chair clattering to the ground behind him. “Asbo-fucking-lutely not. You,” he turned to point an accusing finger at Blaine, “you fucking knew about this didn’t you. Oh-ho. You just wanted me to look like an ass. Well fuck you. You can take your amicable split and shove it up your-”

“Is there a problem?” Mr. Browne looked over his shoulder at his intern.

“I’ll see you in court,” James sneered. Angrily he snatched up his coat and stormed out the door, his lawyer trailing awkwardly after him.

“So people really do say that,” Sebastian said calmly. He slid one of the coffees across the table to Mr. Browne.

“Sebastian,” Blaine choked out. “I…”

It had been years since he had seen or heard from Sebastian and the office of his divorce lawyer was the last place he had expected to encounter him again.

“So you two know each other?” Mr. Browne asked, greyed and bushy eyebrows furrowing into a frown. “Is this a story I should know?” Smoothly he flipped to a new page of his legal pad and held his pen poised to take notes.

“We, umm… we know each other. Sort of. From a long time ago.  Knew each other. Uh.. We sort of-” Blaine’s explanation stumbled from his mouth, words tripping over each other as they tried to come together in a coherent thought.

Sebastian’s exasperated sigh was audible, even from across the room. “We were seeing each other. Our freshman year of college.”

“Was it serious? Or just sex?”

Blaine choked. “Um… no. Not- not just sex.” He looked helplessly at Sebastian who looked just as calm as his boss did in the face of an inquiry into their sex life. “I mean we did have s- It wasn’t _just_ that.”

But it hadn’t been serious either, which was the problem in the end. They had flirted with seriousness, sometimes, and gave it a wide berth the rest. Sebastian hadn’t been sure he was ready for commitment and Blaine didn’t know he was ready for commitment to Sebastian.

“We went to two different schools and met through mutual acquaintances,” Sebastian took over the narrative. “We casually saw each other for about five months. Shortly after he met James we stopped seeing each other, casually or otherwise.”

“And nothing since then? No contact whatsoever?”

Numbly Blaine shook his head. “No. Nothing.”

“Nothing,” Sebastian echoed.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Browne. I just. I can’t right now. I need to…” Blaine could feel Mr. Browne and Sebastian’s eyes boring into him and suddenly the room was becoming claustrophobically small. It was too much, especially on top of everything else that was going on. “I’m really very sorry. I’ll call you tomorrow after…” He shook his head again, trying to regain his sense of clarity.

“I’m really sorry,” Blaine repeated, gathering up his things before he too hurried from the room.

* * *

Three hours later, Blaine’s fingers found themselves hovering over his contact list. For the last hour it was a game he had been playing with himself; scroll through his list, watching the names blur as they sped by, and if he stopped on the right name then…

Stephanie Rubinstein was not the right name.

But it was close enough.

He scrolled down instead of up. In the early days of his relationship with James he had masked Sebastian’s number with a false name to keep James’ jealousy at bay. Back when he hoped that he and Sebastian would at least be able to maintain a friendship, despite his new romance.

 **To: Tommy Smith**  
So... That was unexpected.  
  
**From: Tommy Smith**  
Blaine?

 **From: Tommy Smith**  
I'm not sure I'm supposed to be talking to you.  
  
**To: Tommy Smith**  
Oh. Right.  
Sorry.  
  
**From: Tommy Smith**  
No. It’s fine. I'm just not sure what the protocol is.  
  
**To: Tommy Smith**  
No, you're right. This is probably completely inappropriate.  
  
With a sigh Blaine shoved his phone back into his pocket. He took a deep breath and resolved to not text Sebastian again, no matter how badly his fingers were itching for it.

Not only that, he decided he would completely ignore his phone for the rest of the night. After that afternoon James would probably rather eat his own foot than talk to Blaine, even if it was only about work.  And anything anyone else might have to say to him wouldn’t be pressing enough he couldn’t just ignore it for a few hours.

A night of old rom-coms and not thinking about anything was exactly what he needed.

* * *

By 11:30 the next morning it was impossible for Blaine to keep his phone off any longer. He wasn’t at all surprised to see a string of increasingly agitated e-mails from Quinn, who was apparently trying to set up a last minute photo shoot for him and his new co-star. He was, however, surprised to see that Sebastian had sent him two messages earlier that morning.

 **From: Tommy Smith**  
You know I only eat at D'laurios. I'll see you at noon.  
  
**From: Tommy Smith**  
Sorry. Wrong number.  
  
Blaine stared at his phone. His heart had started pounding when he saw Sebastian was texting him again only to plummet to his stomach when he realized the message wasn't even meant for him.

He knew that he still need to call Mr. Browne back, but the truth was he couldn't figure out what to think about the entire situation. At least not without talking to Sebastian first.

Not that Sebastian had any interest in talking to him.

Without really thinking about it he found himself fumbling for his coat and hat. He only needed five minutes and he knew where Sebastian was going to be. Besides, D'laurios was mostly safe. It was a little family-owned restaurant in a nice quiet part of town, the kind of place where everyone minded their own business and anyone could eat in peace.

It was an interesting place for Sebastian to choose to eat, if only because it was twenty blocks or more from his office. But it was also not unlike him at all. He always did appreciate that lifestyle. And surely nonchalantly rubbing elbows with the sort of people who made D’laurios their normal haunt put Sebastian exactly where he wanted to be, getting his face seen by the right kind of people and suggesting that he was one of them too.

By the time Blaine got there Sebastian should have already been there long enough to have ordered. The kitchen was probably already working on preparing the meal, and Blaine was hoping that would be enough to get Sebastian to stay after he saw him.

On the way over the dozens of questions he had had ever since Sebastian had opened that door the day before. He was ready and prepared, just like he was going to another interview, only this time it would be him asking the questions.

Exactly like an interview, he told himself as his stomach burbled nervously.

“Good afternoon,” the hostess greeted him cheerfully.

“Afternoon,” he replied, “I’m meeting someone here. He should be…” his eyes scanned the room. He knew a handful of the patrons and he offered a small smile to a director he had worked with a few years before. Finally his eyes found the familiar back of Sebastian’s head. “Right over there,” he finished, pointing out the table.

“Very good, sir,” the hostess edged as Blaine continued to just stand at the podium. “Would you like a menu? Or a car when you’re finished?”

“Sorry,” Blaine smiled politely at her, “no, I’m fine. Thank you.”

Steeling himself he strode across the restaurant, weaving in and out of tables until he was standing next to Sebastian.

He took another deep breath in and the word ‘Hi’ forced itself through his lips on the exhale.  
  
Sebastian smiled up at him. "I thought I might have been too subtle for you." He nodded for Blaine to take the empty seat across from him.

"What?" Blaine blinked. "You were expecting me?" He barely sat down before the waiter was sliding a Caesar salad in front of Blaine and a burger in front of Sebastian.

"And I took the liberty of ordering for us. I only get 30 minutes for lunch."

"How did you even know I'd show up?"

"I know you."

"Knew."

Sebastian shrugged easily. "Semantics."

"And of course you had to do all this cloak and dagger."

"Tsk tsk." Sebastian waved a fry between them. "I'd rather there not be anything of interest to see when the phone records get subpoenaed."

"Right." Another inevitability of a messy divorce, or so he had been told. All of his recorded life being exposed and laid bare to be scrutinized by their lawyers.

To stop his head from reeling, Blaine took a bite of his salad.

"I'm surprised you still have my number."

"I changed your name but..."

"Ah yes. That sentimental streak." Sebastian's lips quirked up into a smile and the words, which so easily could have been malicious, were instead fond. "So who am I now?"

"Tommy Smith. Although I guess it doesn't really matter anymore."

"I didn't know it would be you," Sebastian said, surprisingly earnest. "They don't generally tell us ahead of time, in case someone changes their mind," he continued. "We get some general details, but no names until we're in a meeting or in court."

"I was surprised to see you there. It doesn't really seem like you."

"It's how summering works. Get a firm and they shunt you around the departments. I'm more interested in entertainment and business generally not..." He focused back on his burger, wolfing it down like he hadn't eaten in days.

"It's okay to say divorce," Blaine whispered. It wasn't really. The word still stuck in his throat and tasted dirty in his mouth. Years waiting for the day he could marry and all of it somehow reduced to ashes.

“Well neither you nor James will have to worry about me anymore. They’re going to try and shuffle me back to the business side, so I won’t be a problem. Or they’ll find other cases for me to work on in Family. Even if yours is the most interesting.”

“What?” Blaine put his silverware down and leaned forward. “No. You shouldn’t lose out on the experience just because you happen to know me. I’ll talk to Mr. Browne. Make sure that you stay on.”

“Oh yeah?” Sebastian quirked his eyebrow in amusement. “How are you going to manage that?”

“Please. I have learned a few tricks over the years.”

“Oh yes. How could I forget about your Celebrity.”

“Feel free to accompany me on an afternoon stroll after this,” Blaine muttered darkly. “If we’re lucky we might make it a block before we were swarmed.”

He liked his job; he loved acting, both on the big and little screen and his occasional time on stage. He even enjoyed most of the fame that came with it. But in recent years something as simple as going out to lunch had become difficult to the point that it was something he rarely did, especially not in New York where tourists loved nothing more than to stop at gawk at him as the paps shot picture after picture of every step he took.

“But,” Blaine said hesitantly, turning his attention away from his problems and back to Sebastian, “if you want to be moved…  I know you said this wasn’t the division you wanted. This could be a way.”  
  
"I told you before that I'd fight for you," Sebastian said quietly but with a steely edge of determination.

"I remember."

Blaine could still hear the laughter that had accompanied the statement as they lay entangled in a blanket out in the park. But neither of them had been ready to find out whether he had been kidding or not. Instead Blaine had walked away. Walked straight to James and a future he thought would be sure.

"I still will. Zealous advocacy," he hit the table, probably in imitation of whichever professor had drilled the sentiment into his head. "No strings attached."

"That also sounds familiar." Blaine’s smile felt tight and forced in the face of their mantra from years ago.

“We were kids.”

“We were.”

“I had a lot of growing up to do.”

“I'll say. The night we met you had crowned yourself the King of Keg-stands.”

“I had just beaten the house record. And someone was nice enough to make me a crown. I can’t even remember what it was made out of, but it would have been rude of me not to have refused it.” Sebastian laughed. “God knows what you saw in me.”

“About three inches of your stomach every time you flipped yourself upside down,” Blaine laughed too, light blush coloring his cheeks. “You weren’t the only one who had a lot to drink.”

It was easier after that to amicable eat their meal. Sebastian slowed down from shoveling all his food into his mouth, and Blaine stopped just picking through his salad. The conversation was still more stilted than it ever had been between them.

It was awkward, but not unpleasantly so. Not unlike a first date, or one of the many charity events that Blaine had sat through where no one quite knew what to say but didn’t want to sit in silence either.

“So, I’ll see you next Thursday?” Blaine asked as they gathered up their coats. “To be fervently advocated for.”

“Zealously,” Sebastian said with a laugh. “But I will advocate for you fervently, zealously, ardently or whatever other –ly you’re looking for. Pursuant to Mr. Browne’s agreement.”

“He’ll agree,” Blaine said confidentially.

“Probably,” Sebastian nodded. “Even without your Celebrity. I bet he’s secretly thrilled that your case just became more complicated.”

“Well I’m glad someone is,” Blaine said bitterly, pulling his jacket tighter around himself.

“It’s not his fault.” Sebastian bumped their shoulders together and grinned cheerfully. “We sell our souls when we go to law school. All we have to look forward to is other people being more miserable than us. It’s nothing personal.”

* * *

Whenever possible, Blaine tried to avoid going into Browne & Gelsinger. Partially he wanted to avoid the added publicity involved with being seen going in and out of a well-known divorce firm and partially he just hated the building.

But sometimes Mr. Browne’s schedule was just too busy to accommodate a meet up elsewhere and going in was unavoidable. It never failed to make the already uncomfortable conversations even more uneven and stilted.  
  
"So, Blaine," Mr. Browne said, staring down his nose at him as that infernal clock ticked in the background "about your lack of prenup…”

"It didn't seem important at the time," he replied meekly. He had already gotten an earful about it from his entire family, most of his friends, and Mr. Browne during their first meeting.

Everyone had varying opinions on exactly how stupid he was to not have had something in place but in the rush of falling giddily headlong in love little had seemed important. Their entire relationship had been a whirlwind, from their first real date to James' proposal five months later. He had just been finishing his sophomore year and had a single, very minor, role to his name. He hadn't even seriously been considering a film career and the only real money he had had come from his family. It was enough for him to support himself (themselves) but not enough for him to consider a prenup.

"Well it's pretty damn important now," Mr. Browne said in a firm chortle. "And since then...?"

"James managed everything. I never really thought there was a need." Blaine shook his head, feeling like an idiot. He frowned. “We were happy.”

Mr. Browne and Sebastian shared a look that expressed exactly how many times others in Blaine’s position had expressed the same sentiment.

“We’ll cover the brunt of that hurdle when we get there,” Mr. Browne sighed. “First, they’re going to move to dismiss on the ground that you don’t meet the residential requirements,” he said calmly. “It’s pretty standard procedure, especially in cases like yours.”

“Right. Okay.” Nervously Blaine licked his lips and he couldn’t help but let his gaze dart to Sebastian for reassurance. “What exactly does that mean?” For all the late nights that he had spent watching old reruns of Law & Order and Suits he was completely out of his depth.

Shaking his head, Mr. Browne gestured for Sebastian to explain.

“They basically want to get the proceedings thrown out before they even start,” Sebastian said. “They’ll say that you don’t really meet the legal requirements for residency under the law so the court can’t even hear the case. They’ll want you to file in California instead.”

“What?” Blaine asked, startled. “But I do live here. I even have a New York license!” Frantically he reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet as proof.

“As I said,” Mr. Browne reassured, “it’s a very common tactic. It can serve to scare away plaintiffs. Sort of sparking the realization of the legal battle to come, that sort of thing. And they’re also hoping you’ll have to bring the proceedings to California, especially with no sort of agreement.”

“But they could prove that I’m not a resident of New York?” Panic built in Blaine’s chest, sure there had to be tax consequences at the very least if he in fact wasn’t a New York resident. He and James did have a house in California and even though they tried to split their time evenly between the two places there were years they spent nine months or more in Los Angeles. Both places felt like home to him, but their New York apartment always felt just a little bit more so.

“It’s just procedural.” Sebastian leaned forward, the end of his tie trailing across the table. Suddenly he looked much less like a note-taking intern  and much more like an actually lawyer, even with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “As long as you’re paying all your taxes you’ll be fine. It wouldn’t have an effect outside of these proceedings.

“But,” Sebastian tapped his pen against the table, “they aren’t going to prove anything so the point is moot.”

“Sebastian’s right. This really is just procedural hogwash. We’ll ask you a few questions, but other than that you’ll barely be involved. Won’t even have to come to court for it.”

“Which,” Sebastian cut in upon noticing Blaine’s panicked face, “is also completely normal. For motions it will just be us, his legal team, and the judge. Don’t sweat the small stuff, killer.”

The nickname slipped from Sebastian lips, smooth and familiar, and caused Blaine’s stomach to flutter and his face to heat. Sebastian’s own face had taken on a pink tinge at his slip of the tongue.

“Right.” Mr. Browne cleared his throat. With a decisive nod he gathered up his papers. “That should be all for today. Either Sebastian or myself will be in contact regarding any more information we’ll need, although it might not be for a week or more.” Reaching across the table he shook Blaine’s hand. “Sebastian,” he added, pulling back and casting his sternest glare at his intern, “Come by my office in ten.”

Sebastian nodded, pretending to be gathering up his own things to hide the blush that was still coloring his cheeks.

The sound of the door snapping closed again seemed to echo through the room, causing both Blaine and Sebastian to jump.

“That was…” Blaine started and then stopped, not sure what to say.

“Very unprofessional of me.” Sebastian reshuffled his stack of papers for the fifth time. “I apologize.”

“Not it wasn’t,” Blaine protested over Sebastian’s incredulous snort. “Well not until the end at least. Law really suits you, you know. It’s good you found your calling.”

The Sebastian that he had known had been so different from the one in front of him that day. The cocky confidence had been replaced by a quiet but firm sureness. Like he finally fit into his own skin instead of just pretended to.

“And,” Blaine continued, “I’m… glad, I guess, that you’re helping me with this. Or as glad as I can be, given the circumstances.”

“Yeah?” Sebastian breathed, licking his lips nervously.

“Dealing with all of this has been so much easier with you. I can’t even imagine…” Blaine shook his head, biting his lower lip against the swell of emotion in his chest. “This has honestly been one of the worst things I’ve ever gone through. But just having you, having a friend like you, has made it manageable.”

“Whose life hasn’t my presence made better?” The cocky, over-confident smile was back. Just for a split-second before sliding down into something that resembled gratitude and understanding. “I’m glad I could help, though. You deserve it.”

“Yeah?” Blaine felt his heart speeding up in his chest. Without his consent, his body leaned closer towards Sebastian’s. Even though there was still a chair between them, his hand longed to reach out, even just to rest on Sebastian’s shoulder.

“Yes.” Sebastian looked Blaine squarely in the eye. “If I could go back in time and kick my own ass to keep you from ever getting serious with him, I would. And who knows where we would be then, but at least you wouldn’t be in this mess.” He took an unsteady breath.

“I left you, Seb,” Blaine cut in. “You said you needed time and I didn’t give you that.”

Even when he and James were at their happiest, he had always regretted how things had gone with Sebastian. He had always thought that if they had met at another time, in another place things could have been different. It was what had driven him to hide Sebastian in his phone under a false name and later, as his marriage dissolved beneath his fingers, he had chased the memories of that relationship, spinning out a what-if fairytale in his mind.

“That doesn’t...” Sebastian shook his head in dismissive frustration. “You did what you thought was best for you, just like I was doing what I thought was best for me. But now,” he picked up Blaine’s file and waved it between them, “this is something I can do for you.”

“I…” Blaine shook his head. Sebastian always had been able to surprise him in the most unexpected ways with his, often unintentional, sentimentality. “I  really do appreciate yo- that. Appreciate that. Everything you and Mr. Browne are doing,” he corrected. “Thank you.”

“Oh course,” he grinned easily, his free hand waivering in the space between them before falling back to his side. Then, more earnestly, he added, “anything for you.”


End file.
